Happy Valentine’s Day! Here’s What to LOVE About Philly!

Is it possible to have a love affair with a city? I’m here to argue that yes, it is. Valentine’s Day is a celebration of affection, tenderness, and devotion, all of which are things that those who live in the City of Brotherly Love (see? It’s right there in the nickname!) have for the wonderful place we call Philadelphia. As you snuggle with your beloved… or your furbaby, or your favorite book (no judgment here)… here’s a quick call to mind of what we love about Philadelphia.

Je t’aime. Te amo. Ich liebe Dich. In any language, Philadelphia, I love you.

First of all, you can’t have Philly without history. The city is a living part of America’s story, and the relics of that tumultuous, epic tale are still around today. We’ve got the Liberty Bell, Betsy Ross’ house, Independence Hall, and the distinction of being the first capital of the United States. Then you have the location. We’re situated with rivers on either side of us, which afford gorgeous waterfront views, and a spot on the busy Northeastern coast that puts us smack dab in the midst of major cities like Boston and New York. It’s why Amazon is considering us as a location for their H2 project.

And let’s talk about the neighborhoods. From the lofty condos of Rittenhouse Square to the cozy bars in the Gayborhood, from the Italian Market to Center City’s glass-and-metal skyscrapers, Philly is full of beautiful places to live, work, and play. It’s actually one of the most affordable big cities in the country, too.

How about that food? Whether you’re a Pat’s or Geno’s kinda guy/gal and you like yours wit’ or wit’out, you can’t deny the appeal of the meaty, cheesy, oh-so-good cheesesteak. But that’s not all! We’ve got pretzels, we’ve got water ice, we gave you guys Wawa (you’re welcome) and we have pizza that can rival New York or Chicago. YEAH, I SAID IT.

But maybe the biggest thing to love about Philly is the people. We’re a mixed bunch of different races, faiths, ages, and income levels. We scream and light trash cans on fire when the Eagles win, and we turn it the f- out when the rest of the world is looking, like when we hosted the DNC. Or the NFL draft. Or the freaking Pope. We’re that commuter reading the paper on the SEPTA train, the kid licking a popsicle in LOVE park, and every Tom, Dick, and Harry that’s run up the Rocky steps of the Art Museum with “Eye of the Tiger” blasting from their phone. We’re Philadelphia.

And I love you.